


are you winning, son?

by Ihasa



Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: Fluff, Kazumin is team dad, papa wolf, we all see it right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihasa/pseuds/Ihasa
Summary: A tiny little ficlet spawned from my pervasive love of one (1) Build Team Dad, or, The One Where Sento Calls Kazumin Dad by Mistake.I thought of this after episode 43, but it's not really set anywhere specific.
Kudos: 7





	are you winning, son?

A glass of water, or, rather, a coffee cup of water, was suddenly in front of him, blocking a small percent of the keyboard. It was just enough to distract him, and Sento looked up, and was surprised. First, it was dark, the only light in the room from his desk lamp and his monitor. Second, the room was empty, with no one running around. He remembered, vaguely, that it had seemed kind of quiet for awhile.

Kazumin was standing over him, eyelids heavy, lazy grin on his lips, hands in his pockets.

“I’m goin’ up to bed.” he drawled. “You go soon too, okay?”

“Oh, sure.”

“I mean it,” Kazumin said, flicking Sento’s hair. Sento realized he could feel it sticking up. “S’late. And drink that, it’s been hours since I saw you drink anything.”

Sento looked at the water, then around the room again, then checked the clock. Oh. He swallowed, felt his throat stick. He was thirsty. And, only now did he notice, he was  _ tired. _ He looked back at the monitor, did a quick calculation of where he was versus where he needed to be. He could get away with a pause.

“Yeah, in a minute, just let me finish this bit.” He picked up the cup and drank a little. It felt amazing.

“Sure,” said Kazumin, looking more than a little satisfied. He turned away and waved over his shoulder. “‘Night.”

Sento took another sip of the water and said goodnight, turning his focus back to the monitor.

There was a squeak, a shrieking, scuffing sound, deafening in the silence. Sento looked back up. Kazumin, who had apparently tripped over his own shoes, skittered to a stop, half bent over, whole body tense and hunched. Kazumin straightened, looked back over his shoulder. His eyes were wide, moving, raking over Sento’s entire face at once. Sento glanced behind himself, over his shoulder, but there was nothing there.

“What?” He asked.

“What?” Parroted Kazumin. Sento thought he was blushing faintly, though it could have been a trick of the light.

“What?” Sento felt himself smile. Kazumin’s mouth hung open. “You look like a fish.”

“You- what did you-”

“Goodnight?” Sento leaned back and crossed his arms. “It’s something you say at nighttime, as in, ‘have a good night, Kazumin, thank you for’-”

Kazumin stalked back across the room, put one hand down on the desk, hard. The other one grabbed the back of Sento’s chair, spinning Sento to face him. He loomed over him, as much as Kazumin ever loomed. And he  _ was _ blushing, cheeks red in the light of the desk lamp.

“No, you punk, you said- You just called me  _ ‘dad’. _ ”

“What? No I didn’t.” Sento looked up at Kazumin, calm as anything, still feeling that mean little smile tugging at his mouth. “I just said…”

He blinked, casting his eyes to the side. He looked at the desk, brain running figures as the last few minutes replayed in his head. He looked back at Kazumin, decided that he couldn’t look at Kazumin, and also he had to to recheck his findings, and looked back at the desk. His face went very, very hot very, very suddenly.

“ _...I said goodnight, dad. _ ” He said, his voice a terrified whisper. His throat was very dry again.

“You did. You did say that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,  _ oh. _ ”

Sento looked back up at Kazumin. Kazumin looked down at Sento, his lips tight, the wrinkle between his eyes trembling, his eyes wide. One of the veins in the side of his neck was sticking out.

Sento’s heart was in his ears. His palms were sweating. The room felt empty in a different way now, miles wide, silent and yet full of buzzing, horrible electricity.

“Well then.” Said Kazumin, stiffly, straining through his teeth. “Go to bed soon. Get some sleep. Um. Goodnight.”

“G-goodnight.” Sento’s voice came out as a hoarse little squeak.

And Kazumin, who Sento could  _ almost  _ swear was fighting a smile, went to bed. And Sento deflated. And they  _ never spoke of it again. _

**Author's Note:**

> He's their dad! Which is at once very funny, and very, very sad, because he's only like 3 years older than Sento. But 'dad' is a thing you do, not an age you get to.
> 
> War makes dads of us all, I guess?


End file.
